


our love full of storms

by alltheworldsinmyhead



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But also, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Issues, Marriage, marriage problems, starks sisters supporting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheworldsinmyhead/pseuds/alltheworldsinmyhead
Summary: She has never been a Sansa, but she had it all more-or-less under control. So surely, having a family was supposed to be something else? Surely, there’s someone else to blame, cause it’s impossible that it’s just her fucking up to such a spectacular degree? // After the birth of their second child, Arya's and Gendry's marriage hits a speed bump
Relationships: (Minor), Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell
Comments: 112
Kudos: 309





	our love full of storms

**Author's Note:**

> This is waaaay too long, but I didn't manage to find any good way to divide it, so you have to digest this monster in one go somehow.  
> EPIC thanks to Yana, who cheered me along the way and helped me out every time I felt that this fic would have to be left unfinished. You are the best, darling, and I love you so much <3 This is all for you!
> 
> One more thing - I don't have kids, so this fic was just written based on my experience with my much younger brothers, my goddaughter, and some research that i did on the internet. For any possible mistakes connected with labor, babies, breastfeeding etc. - sorry in advance.

> _And in the sea of our shared life_
> 
> _I try to count the islands of sorrow_
> 
> _And velvet reefs_
> 
> _Of when we were so happy_
> 
> _I can see our trees_
> 
> _Bent by the winds of time_
> 
> _I know so well_
> 
> _Our love filled with storms_
> 
> _It sometimes cuts_
> 
> _Both ways like a sword_
> 
> _And leaves deep wounds on you and me_
> 
> _Living together is hard_
> 
> _Being apart kills me_
> 
> _I think we’ll always be_
> 
> _So tangled up in one another_
> 
> _Shared address, shared kids, our dreams_
> 
> _So help me go back to those days again_
> 
> \- Na Sen, Urszula

**ARYA**

Nan started teething.

Nan started teething and it was the straw the broke Arya’s back. Because her daughter could not, would not stop wailing every waking minute of the day and because Lucas has, once again, started biting other kids in the daycare, and because her husband seemed to be completely unaffected by the fact that neither he or she could recall when was the last time they had sex – all of that resulted in Arya sitting, fully-clothed, in an empty bathtub and pondering on how this mess is her life now.

She has never been a Sansa, but she had it all more-or-less under control. So surely, having a family was supposed to be something else? Surely, there’s someone else to blame, cause it’s impossible that it’s just her fucking up to such a spectacular degree?

Like, there must be some explanation. Chances are though, she will never find it because just as she’s about to bang her head against the tiles, small fists start banging on the closed door.

‘’Mommy? Mommy, Nan’s crying.’’

_Of course she is. She hardly does anything else these days._

She can hear it, even though the nursery is on the opposite side of the flat. Thin, piercing shrills, not yet as desperate as to require Arya’s immediate attention… but getting there soon.

A single drop of water drips on Arya’s socked feet. The sink has been leaking for weeks now, but of course, to get Gendry to do anything lately requires at least a formal administrative letter, so it’s bound to continue leaking until she fixes it herself. She could do it, but she won’t, purely out of spite. Between her and her husband, only one of them sleeps more than four hours at night, so she reasons that this exact person should be the one to fix the goddamned sink-

‘’Mommy!’’

‘’I’m coming, I’m coming,’’ she grumbles, climbing out of the bathtub with a sigh. Her breasts hurt like a bitch, which probably means it’s nursing time anyway. One thing she has to give to Nan; her daughter has absolutely no problem with eating regularly.

When she opens the door, Lucas immediately wraps his arms around her leg like a little monkey, effectively immobilizing her for a second.

‘’Let go, Luke.’’

‘’No!’’

It’s his new favorite words, so she probably shouldn’t be surprised.

‘’You told me yourself that Nan’s crying.’’ She says, trying to keep her voice calm, but instead just ends up sounding dead tired. ‘’You need to let me go, so I could take care of her.’’

‘’You’re with Nan always, play with me.’’

‘’Luke, we’ve talked about this-‘’

‘’No!’’

‘’Nan’s little, she needs me-‘’

‘’I’m little too!’’

He’s not, not really; he’s already the tallest in his daycare group and continues to shot up, which makes buying him clothes a never-ending nightmare. But he still has those chubby cheeks and baby curls, and still loves monopolizing attention like nothing else in the world, underfoot at all times. And Arya hasn’t got nearly enough energy to fight him on that, so instead of carrying out with the battle of stamina with a four-year-old, she hoists Luke up and settles him on her hip.

‘’We’ll go to Nan together, okay?’’

‘’And then we play?’’ he sniffles, raising his blue eyes to her and she finds herself mindlessly nodding in confirmation.

She steps on several Legos on her way, but Nancy’s crying so hard now, that she barely registers it. The only things she can really focus on, are the aching pressure in her breasts and the fact that she has just ruined yet another nursing bra with milk stains. Also, Luke’s very heavy in her arms, especially when he stops holding on and just sags like a ragdoll against her with his head thrown back and limp limbs. 

She practically drops him on the armchair in the nursery, rushing to the crib. Nan has turned on her belly and her little black head bobs as she’s throwing a fit, her face all red from anger. Arya loves her children more than life itself, but she finds herself, more often than not, lamenting at her choice of their father. Reproducing with someone mild-mannered would surely at least dull her own less-desired characteristics and result in sweet, easy kids, like Sansa’s. But no – she had to go and pick the only guy in the world more stubborn than her. And then allow him to get her pregnant. Twice, as if Luke was not hard enough to handle on his own. The fool-proof tactic, truly.

The wailing dies down considerably when Arya reaches inside the crib and picks Nan up, holding her with one hand and unbuttoning her blouse with another. When she was breastfeeding Luke, she had to stuff her boob inside his mouth as if it was a hamburger and she’s glad that at least she does not need to re-live this experience. Nan latches onto her nipple instantly, making her wince from pain, but at least she’s not crying anymore; her little body relaxes in Arya’s arms and her eyelids shut close. Nan’s an awfully pretty baby and it’s a pleasure to look at her when she’s not screaming; but unfortunately, Arya does not take Luke into account as she drops down on the armchair.

She closes her eyes for a second. Just one, tiny second of bliss. And then-

Nan stops eating and lets out the most horrific, high-pitched yell Arya has ever heard in her life.

‘’Lucas!’’

Oh, she’s angry now. Truly and really.

Her son’s blushing red when he scrambles to the floor in a desperate attempt to run away, but Arya was a fencing champion in college. Her hand shots out and grabs his collar, yanking him back.

‘’Why did you do that?’’ she asks, bouncing Nancy up and down in a desperate attempt to calm her down. ‘’Why did you pinch her?’’

‘’You promised we’ll play!’’

‘’She had to finish-‘’

‘’I don’t like her!’’ Luke stomps his feet down loudly, still struggling to get free of Arya’s grip. ‘’I want her gone! It was better without her!’’

Arya swallows hard, loosening her fingers around the material of Luke’s shirt.

‘’Go to your room.’’ She commands weakly. ‘’We’ll talk about it later.’’

As Lucas runs away, she pushes her nipple back into Nancy’s mouth to silence her and takes a few deep breaths. She could go and punish Lucas, or better, she could go and talk to Lucas. But what she was supposed to say to him? _Hey kid, I know that it was easier when you were an only child. But you know what? It was even easier when you were not here at all and it was just me and your dad!_

She doesn’t even notice that she’s crying until Nan falls back asleep on her breast.

***

Arya has already given Luke his dinner – noodles with tomato sauce, same as every fucking day – and managed to bathe both him, Nan and the considerable portion of the bathroom before Gendry comes back home.

She’s halfway through ironing as she hears the sound of the opening door and Luke’s steps on the carpet, sprinting on the corridor. And then joyous shriek when Gendry picks him up as he always does.

‘’Hello, little man! Already set for bed?’’

‘’I’m not going to sleep today!’’

‘’Really? I think you are.’’

 _Oh yes, really._ Arya nudges the cradle with her foot so that Nancy wouldn’t wake up from the lack of rocking and unplugs the clothes iron. There’s no use trying to finish it anyway. She’ll never manage to finish ironing all these clothes, the same way she’ll never finish doing laundry or cleaning the kitchen; sometimes, she’s wondering what’s even the point in trying, if all her activities are interrupted before she can even feel that any progress was done.

Gendry must’ve carried Luke back to his bedroom because when Arya steps into the corridor, it’s empty. She can hear Luke’s excited babble through half-opened door and she wonders if he’s telling Gendry about the pinching or about the fact that he straight-up refused to clean up his Lego and she did it herself just to avoid stepping on them all the time. Probably not. Gendry is the closest thing Luke has for a superhero figure and he is always perfectly sweet around him. So, when Arya gets temper tantrums and biting and pinching, Gendry gets stories about pigeons on the emergency staircase, kisses, and teeth-brushing without shouting.

Nancy’s seven goddamn months old and she’s already the same; cooing adorably whenever she sees her father and giggling when he makes funny faces to her. Granted, Nan still kinda feels like the extension of Arya’s body sometimes because they do have this special bond that children grow out of way too quickly, but she also, unquestionably, calms down quicker in his arms than in hers.

Sansa told her that’s because she can sense that Arya is anxious. Fuck Sansa and her well-meaning advice, honestly.

It feels awful to be jealous of her own husband. It feels even more awful because she’s mad that he’s so much better with kids than her, that he manages to parent them in a way she cannot seem to master no matter what. _How small I became. What has happened to me?_

_What has happened to me? You did this to me._ – she’s thinking sometimes, as she’s standing bare in front of the mirror and looks at her body, horrified without measure. It’s a fresh battlefield, even now; all the stretch marks, blue veins on display and loose skin, and this additional weight around her hips that she has not managed to shed yet and she doubts she ever will. Nan was a hard baby to carry, so Arya was forced to spend the last months of the pregnancy abed with a pint of chocolate ice cream, or watching cartoons with Luke for whole days and her body clearly did not forgive her that.

 _You did this to me._ – she’s screaming soundlessly over and over again, and sometimes she’s accusing Gendry and sometimes the kids, but most of all, it’s directed to her and her only.

The first thing she sees when she enters the bedroom is papers.

Papers, spread on the desk and on the floor; and Gendry hunched over them, his pencil making this goddamn awful sound as he’s drawing. It’s hard to imagine that once she loved watching him entranced in his work; she’d make him a tea, strong black with lemon, and rest her chin on his shoulder to glance at his blueprints.

Now, the sight almost makes her feel sick.

She flops down on the duvet in silence and inhales deeply.

It doesn’t have to end up in the fight. But she somehow has a feeling it will.

‘’Sorry for being so late. The contractors are driving me crazy, changing things constantly.’’ Gendry murmurs before she can even open her mouth. ‘’How’s Nan?’’

‘’Still crying all the time. I don’t think this ointment is working at all.’’

Her mother bought them this duvet. Checked, yellow and blue, comfortably warm. She remembers that when Luke was still a baby, they would spread it on the floor for him, settling him on his belly. He learned how to crawl on it.

‘’Maybe you should just give it a day or two. It won’t work miraculously overnight.’’

He’s still drawing and her head’s killing her. It’s half-past nine, which means that in half an hour Nancy will wake up, so Arya should at least try to nap. _Just leave it, just drop it._ – blaring in her mind on repeat, red lights, and sirens.

But she’s been dropping it all for a few months now and she just cannot do it anymore.

‘’Well, try spending a whole day with her and then tell me to be patient, okay?’’ she snaps, voice harsh and sharp, and Gendry’s hand stops moving for a moment.

‘’I know it’s not easy for you. I wish I was here, really.’’ – and he resumes drawing and she wants to _cry._ ‘’But this project is just too important, Arya. They’re paying real money, big money-’’

‘’Do we really need so much money now? I thought we’re doing fine.’’

Better than fine, actually. And she seriously hopes he won’t even try to argue her on this topic, as she’s the one handling the finances.

‘’Yes, but we wanted to save up for a house, remember? Do you want to get stuck in the rental our whole life? I mean, we agreed that by the third kid we’ll need a house anyway so-‘’

‘’I don’t want more kids.’’ The sentence escapes from her mouth before she can stop it, quick and harsh. She didn’t want to sound so small, but she does, and he drops his papers at her words, at last turning around to face her.

‘’Arya… we talked about it.’’ He sounds surprised, even though he shouldn’t be. Doesn’t he see how she looks like? How can he not see how tired she is? ‘’We agreed that we wanted a big family.’’

And indeed, they did. Gendry had no family until he was an adult and Arya’s childhood was straight out of the storybook, with her loud, messy pack of siblings. So, of course, she wanted to have kids, many kids; she wanted a house on a hill filled with dogs and children and laughter, like from a fucking Nutella commercial. But it was stupid of her. Stupid and naïve, because this is not how real life works or looks like.

Real-life looks like dragging kicking and screaming Luke from underneath the bed when he does not want to go to the daycare in the morning. It looks like Nan getting sick in the middle of the night just before Arya and Gendry were supposed to go to Dorne for Ned’s wedding and so having to cancel the whole trip. It’s two-days-long labors, saggy breasts and not recognizing her own body, hiding it underneath layers upon layers of baggy clothing at all times.

And, most of all, it’s having to decide which one of her children needs her more at a given time and leaving the another to their own devices.

This is how her life looks like. And she refuses to sign up for more. Because it’s only gonna get harder

‘’Sure we did. But life changes, Gendry! It does not get stuck just on one path! I know I wanted this. But can’t imagine how it would even work now. I don’t know how my mom managed with all of us, but I- I’m not her. I have no idea how to do this.’’ She almost chokes on the words, as she stumbles on words in haste, desperately trying to articulate what she does not truly understand herself. ‘’I feel like I’m failing them.’’

‘’You’re overreacting.’’ He sighs impatiently and silence falls between them, heavy and sharp like a knife, knocking the wind out of Arya’s lungs. Her hands drop to her sides and she can feel hot tears burning her eyes, but she’s not sad.

No, she’s angry; so angry that she can barely breathe.

‘’I – I can’t believe you just said that.’’ She manages to stutter, some hysteric laughter bubbling deep in her chest, in her throat. ‘’I can’t believe that you, of all people, just said that.’’

‘’I just mean you’re doing so good, Arya-‘’ he rushes to defend himself, but she cuts him off, with a wave of her hand and lets tears spill down her cheeks.

‘’You have no idea how I’m doing. And you won’t even let me tell you.’’ She states slowly and marches out of the room. Nancy will wake up soon anyway and besides, if she stays one more second around her husband, she’s bound to tell him something she’s sure to regret later.

She didn’t expect him to follow her, but it still hurts that he doesn’t.

***

Arya wakes up when someone lifts the warm, familiar weight of her daughter off her chest and lays the child down in the crib, murmuring soft ‘’Goodnight, my girl’’ while doing that.

But even when the same someone sneaks his arms under her knees and back and hoists her up, she keeps her breathing even, her eyes firmly closed.

 _I never wanted you to carry me. I just wanted the two of us to carry it all together._ – she wants to say, but Gendry doesn’t want to listen to her anymore. And while she’s still so terribly mad that her blood boils, she’s also so bone-deep tired - and the smell of her husband, the feel of him, surrounds her comfortingly, almost making her sigh from contentment.

How much she has missed that, being in his arms. Feeling his heartbeat, strong and steady. Gendry always had a way of making her all soft like no other, and this special skill of his still seems to work like a charm, even now.

He lowers her on the mattress of their bed and sits down by her side for a minute in silence. She wonders if he’s looking at her, the way he used to when they were younger. She would wake up to meet the blue, blue stare of his laughing eyes and the first thing she did then was smile.

He brushes some stray hair away from her face and then she feels his lips, warm and familiar, pressing to her forehead.

‘’I’m sorry, love.’’ He whispers, so quietly, that she can barely hear it.

And then he’s gone again and Arya’s lulled back to sleep by the sound of pencil sliding on the paper, just the way, once upon a time, she was falling asleep listening to his heartbeat.

***

Hers and Sansa’s relationship went through a truly spectacular transformation through the last decade or so, but there are still moments when Arya wants nothing else but to strangle her sister.

Especially when she shows up unannounced at ten o’clock in the morning, seconds after Nan spit banana and avocado all over Arya’s shirt.

‘’Oh, my. You don’t look so well.’’ Sansa’s eyebrows shot up as she steps inside and takes the sight of the messy kitchen. She, of course, is absolutely pristine, from the red soles of her stilettoes to her pearl earrings ‘’Actually, nothing looks so well here.’’

‘’Thank you, Miss Obvious.’’ Arya snickers, grabbing some wet wipes to clean herself a bit, her baby whining slightly as she wiggles on her hip. ‘’You can thank this little lady for that. One week of teething and I literally want to die.’’

Sansa nods her head slowly in understanding and does not comment any further; instead, she tosses her perfect auburn ponytail over her shoulder and takes Nancy in her arms, making soft cooing noises at her.

‘’Hello there, darling, how are you doooin’?’’ she sing-songs, spinning around until Nancy starts to giggle. ‘’Who is my prettiest little nice? Is it you? Is it you?’’

Arya flops down on the chair, rolling her eyes. She cannot help but smile; Sansa, just like their mother, has always been a sucker for babies.

‘’I think all of your other nieces can feel a bit offended by this.’’

‘’Robb and Jon don’t need to know.’’ her sister shorts back immediately, sitting down on another chair and settling Nan on her lap; before Arya can even ask her to do this, she takes off her golden watch and puts it in Nancy’s little hands, letting her play with it. ‘’We all know May’s head is a little misshapen. We just don’t say it aloud.’’

‘’Sansa!’’ Arya gasps in mock indignation. ‘’How could you say so?’’

They stare at each other for a second, before bursting into laughter; it doesn’t take long before Nancy starts to wave her arms excitedly and joins them.

Suddenly, it is a little easier to breathe.

And Arya is reminded why she does not hate her sister anymore, not even a bit.

***

‘’You know that it’s not you who is wrong here, right? Cause you need to understand it.’’ Sansa takes a sip of her tea, bouncing her legs so that Nancy would not start fussing.

Arya sighs heavily. The countertops are all nice and clean now, and she should probably use this unexpected moment of freedom to vacuum the floors, but suddenly, she cannot find any energy to do so. She should’ve never started this conversation with Sansa.

‘’I don’t even know what I want him to do.’’

And that’s the problem. What does she expect Gendry to do, quit his job and stay at home while she goes back to work? Technically feasible, but would require a lot of fuss; she would have to quit breastfeeding earlier than she planned, she still has some maternity leave left anyway so why not use it… so and so, it feels like more trouble than it’s worth.

Besides, she’s not even sure that would make her feel better.

Sansa winces when Nancy swings her arms and the watch in her hand smashes against the table.

‘’Oh my god, I’m so sorry.’’ Arya drops the cleaning rag and rushes to them, but her sister just shakes her head.

‘’Nah, leave it. I think I got it from Dickon, it’s ancient anyway.’’

‘’Doesn’t mean you should just allow her to break it.’’

‘’You’re trying to change the topic - you know that that I know it, right?’’

Huffing in annoyance, Arya steals Nan from Sansa’s lap and hoists her up. Sansa is like a bulldog; once she sinks her teeth into something, she rarely lets it go. So, if Arya is forced to end the conversation by using nursing or diaper change as an excuse, then so be it.

To her surprise, Nan doesn’t immediately start whining to be fed; instead, she nuzzles her little head against Arya’s breast and yawns adorably, dimples on full display and long eyelashes fluttering.

Both women sigh in unison.

‘’She’s so gorgeous. I mean, Luke is cute as a button, don’t get me wrong, but this is one commercial baby.’’ Sansa rests her chin on her hand and chuckles. ‘’I wonder how the next one will turn out, given this tendency.’’

Suddenly, Arya freezes half-motion, her hand suspended in the air several inches above Nan’s forehead. She was about to brush a stray curl away from her brow, but now she’s feeling so sick, that her knees almost give in.

‘’I don’t think there will be any others.’’ Her voice sounds hollow, even in her own ears.

She knows that Sansa is gaping at her silently, but she refuses to meet her stare. Instead, she closes her eyes and buries her nose in Nan’s hair. As long as she remembered, she used to laugh at her mom’s notions about toddlers and their smell, but jokes on her; turns out that babies do have their own special scent, the one that simultaneously makes her want to cry and never let anyone take them from her arms.

Sansa was there, at her engagement party in their parents’ dim-lit living room when Robb jokingly asked her how many kids she wanted and she said _five_ with a grin and such an unwavering conviction that nobody even thought of questioning her words. Sansa was there when Gendry crossed the room, took her face in his hands and kissed her soundly, careless of other people present.

Sansa- Sansa _knows._

‘’Arya.’’ The chair slides on the floor and suddenly, Sansa has her arms wrapped around both Arya and Nan, holding them against her and for sure ruining her neatly ironed white shirt. ‘’Oh, Arya.’’

As her sister starts to rub comforting circles on her back just like mom used to when she was sick, Arya tightens her grip on her own daughter and bursts into tears.

Sansa does not ask for any explanation, doesn’t pressure her into talking. She simply lets her cry until Nan starts to wiggle and mewl; then, she takes the baby from Arya’s arm and lays her on her belly in the playpen.

‘’C’mon, sit.’’ She sets her down on the armchair in the living room, close enough to Nan that they can keep watch on her, and laces their fingers together. Her blue eyes gleam with worry when she squeezes her hand. ‘’You know, I truly don’t think anyone is giving you enough credit. You least of all.’’

Arya chuckles humorlessly and wipes her cheeks with the sleeves of her cheeks. She wishes she could just stop fucking crying every single day.

‘’Yeah, I’m phenomenal. Phenomenal crybaby. Phenomenally fucking my kids up.’’

‘’No.’’ Sansa shakes her head so hard that her ponytail swings from the force of it. ‘’Stop it. Stop it right now. You’re a good mom – if your husband won’t tell it to you, I will.’’

‘’Your children-‘’

‘’My children are adopted, Arya.’’ Her sister lets out almost angrily. ‘’And that comes with its own set of issues and problems, definitely. But I did not carry them, did not give birth to them. Did not have to go through a war with my own body and the absolute shitstorm of hormones. Twice. Did not breastfeed them, did not stay at home with either of them alone, let alone both at the same time. Besides- ‘’ she smirks, ‘’- you may think Rose and Daisy are always so well behaved but believe me, it’s just a very good façade. I handle them way worse than you handle Luke.’’

Arya has a very hard time imagining Rose and Daisy – always oh so prim and proper in their matching, patterned dresses – biting other kids or throwing Legos around in a fit, but she does not want to argue. Despite everything, some small part of her feels a bit lighter, having heard Sansa’s words.

‘’Do you think that mom ever felt like… like all she does is make mistakes?’’

‘’I think you would need to ask her. But yes. I don’t think there is a single mother in the world that feels like she’s doing a good enough job. Or, if there is one, she’s for sure a rather shitty mom.’’

Sansa pats Arya’s knee and smiles softly.

‘’The thing is, you cannot beat yourself up over everything, okay? And you deserve to be heard out. Gendry has to be there for you. What’s the point of having kids together if he isn’t?’’

‘’Wow, you really did read all those wise parenting books during the adoption process, didn’t you?’’ Arya jokes weakly, trying not to focus on the unpleasant sensation in her gut. Because if Sansa is right-

If Sansa is right, then yeah. _What’s the point?_

‘’You bet your ass I did. And still, every day I feel more and more clueless.’’ Her sister sighs heavily. The blue stone of her engagement glistens when she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. ‘’You know, Margaery and I can come and take kids tonight if you want. You two could talk without interruptions.’’

Arya bites on her lip, her eyes inevitably drifting to Nan’s little dark head on the floor. Since her daughter was born, she hasn’t left her for a single day, let alone night. The whole concept sounds so wild that she can hardly comprehend it.

‘’I cannot possibly ask you for this. She doesn’t sleep through the night now, with her teething and how – I mean, I’m breastfeeding, so-‘’

‘’Can’t you pump?’’ there is a hit of humor in Sansa’s voice as if she already anticipated what Arya wanted to say. ‘’And yes, I know that Luke doesn’t like to sleep in a foreign bed, but he already did sleepover once with the girls and he absolutely loved it. We can do a movie night, so they will pass out from too much popcorn and Star Wars.’’

Nan’s scooting on her belly like a snail, determined to reach her favorite chewing toy which is just outside her reach. And although usually, Arya would rush to hand it to her, this time, she lets her baby make this small distance, ignoring her dissatisfied whines. After a few minutes of uncoordinated crawling, Nan’s fingers finally close around the toy and she immediately stuffs it into her mouth, kicking her legs happily against the material of the playpen.

Maybe Arya truly should let it go. Just a little bit.

Just for one night.

‘’I don’t have any big projects right now, so I can sleep in tomorrow. You need this night off more than me, Arya. Let me help you.’’

_Let me help you. – said the tall, dark-haired guy, easily reaching the highest shelf and handing her a bottle of wine._

Against all logic and instinct, she exhales deeply and squeezes Sansa’s fingers, her eyes still locked on Nancy.

‘’Okay.’’

***

Sansa leaves to her appointment with the florist quarter to twelve, leaving Arya with a kiss on a cheek and a promise to come back for kids around five.

‘’Will you be waiting for me, little lady? Will you? Will you wait for your auntie?’’ she asks Nan several times with this silly high-pitch babble that seems to be spilling out of her lips automatically when babies are involved, and Arya just rolls her eyes at that.

‘’Are you sure about this whole idea, San-‘’

‘’Yes. Yes, I am. And you are sure too, remember about it.’’

And she’s gone, just like that. Suddenly, Arya's feeling very off-balance; she sits down on the kitchen chair and stares silently at the wall for a few minutes before Nan recalls that it’s lunchtime. Then she has to go and pick up Luke from daycare, given that he refuses to stay longer than until one, and she’s too busy with both of them to think about anything at all for a while.

But when Luke lays down on the carpet with his toy trains and Nan coos to herself contently on the playpen, Arya has some free time for herself. As she’s setting clean towels on the shelves, the flash of gold at the back of the closet catches her attention, making her stop half-motion. Wheels turn in her head and she realizes, deeply stunned, that it must be her wedding dress - crammed out of sight and only visible now because she accidentally moved some hangers.

She was supposed to sell it, even took pictures right after the wedding. She does not remember why she forgot about that.

Mother told her to wrap it in some old sheets to protect the material, but she never did it. Still, it gleams just like it used to five years ago – the palest shade of yellow silk embroidered with a golden thread. Acorns and leaves and wildflowers stitched all over it.

 _I wore brown leather boots with it –_ she recalls fondly, reaching for the hanger in-between winter jackets and too-small dresses. _And a woolen shawl above it, the one that Sansa knitted._

They got married in the backyard garden behind her childhood home, in the gazebo where she used to sleep sometimes as a rebellious teenager. It was madness on their part, no doubt about it – it was early November and already cold as seven hells. By the end of the ceremony, the tips of Gendry’s nose and ears were bright red and he was shivering slightly with each blow of Northern wind. But he was also grinning like an idiot the entire time and his hands were as warm as always in hers; and when he swept her from her feet in a kiss, they warmed each other up well enough.

Oh, they were so fucking in love with each other.

Arya sits cross-legged on the floor, mindlessly caressing the dress, tracing the embroidered leaves with her fingers. _Yes_. They were so eager to get married that they didn’t even want to wait for spring, as everyone advised them too. Instead, they chose literally the ugliest month possible to tie the knot and everything was done half-assed and in mad haste. Mom seemingly aged five years from all the worrying about the possibility of the disgusting November sleet. Her uncle Ben didn’t make it from the military on such short notice.

But it was perfect anyway.

She didn’t have a single doubt, a single moment of anxiousness; she was still as a surface of a pool when her father led her through the garden in-between bare rose bushes. When Jeyne was curling her hair, she asked Arya if she’s nervous at all, and Arya just laughed in response. That’s how sure she was.

 _He’s the love of my life, mom._ She smiled at Catelyn as she was putting a flower crown of forget-me-nots on her head.

And her mother smiled back and kissed her forehead.

_I know, darling. It’s all I ever wanted for you. All I could ask for._

If she tries hard enough, she can still smell his cologne and feel his hands cupping her face to kiss her. Can re-live the second of breathlessness as he swept her off her feet and carried to the reception in his arms, laughing loudly as she swatted at him and kicked her legs like a child.

Still… It didn’t even happen half a decade ago and she already feels so disconnected with the whole affair as if it was a different Arya getting married, not her at all.

A loud wail coming from the living room derails her train of thoughts, bursting her little memory bubble.

With a deep sigh, she raises from the floor and hags the dress back in her place. It’s no use mulling over the past anyway. There’s no coming back now.

***

Arya’s nursing when Luke hops on the armrest next to her and rests his head against her shoulder

‘’What you’re doing here, hmm?’’ she asks him, running her fingers through his thick black hair. He’s been unusually calm today, to the point when she’s almost not worried how he will behave at Sansa’s.

‘’M’sorry.’’ He mumbles quietly. ‘’For hurting Nan.’’

To her surprise, he reaches out to pat Nancy’s bare feet delicately and then raises his chin up to face her, dimples on full display as his lower lip trembles slightly.

‘’And I’m sorry for being naughty, mommy.’’

Fuck the hormones, honestly, because tears well up in her eyes instantly. Luke was such a sweet kid before Nancy was born and she has almost forgotten about it, but here he is again.

‘’Oh baby, that’s okay. I know it’s hard for you.’’ She bends slightly and presses a kiss to his forehead. ‘’But you know I love you very, very much, my special boy.’’

‘’I know. Daddy told me.’’ Luke curls by her side, nuzzling against the material of her sweater. ‘’He told me yesterday to remember that.’’

‘’He did?’’ Arya wraps her one arm around him and stares down at Nan, who suckles contently. Her long, dark eyelashes flutter as she’s getting drowsier.

‘’M-hm. And he told me that Nan is also my baby. And I need to be a good big brother for her, cause she is my friend for a lifelime.’’

‘’You’re sure he didn’t say _lifetime_?’’ she chuckles. ‘’It means for your whole life.’’

‘’May-be.’’ Her son yawns. ‘’I will try to be good for her. I promise.’’

‘’I know you will, sweetheart.’’

It takes just a few more minutes, and both of her children are napping soundly on Arya’s chest. And although her back and breasts hurt like a bitch, she refuses to move. Not even an inch.

***

The apartment feels very strange and quiet after Margaery leaves with Luke and Nan, and Arya is left with nothing else to do but pace the room and fret.

It feels ridiculous, knowing that she is being ridiculous and not being able to stop.

She’s just about to send yet another text to Sansa, reminding her of Nancy’s feeding schedule and right milk temperature, when her phone signals incoming message. It’s actually a picture – Lucas and the girls happily munching on pizza around Sansa’s hardwood dinner table. Nancy’s also present; she’s seated in the high chair, flashing her two new teeth in a smile, her mouth all orange from carrot mush in the bowl in front of her.

The accompanying text states: _I am blocking your number you hysterical mama wolf. Do something with your hair and have sex with you husband pls_

To that, Arya can only sigh and drop the cell on the sofa. Sansa’s right in this one regard; she’s been surviving on dry shampoo for way too long.

And leaking sink or not, the bath seems like a deliciously inviting idea.

She turns the water on, the hottest possible, and scrolls through her spotify while the tub slowly fills. It’s been a while since she has listened to anything else but those terrible songs for kids, but she knows what she’s looking for; buried underneath hits such as ‘’baby sleeping aid’’ and ‘’Top Hits Kids’’, there is a playlist with a date for a title.

_5 th of August_

Arya was the one to take the cover picture; a low-quality selfie of her own younger self in the arms of younger, clear-shaven Gendry, both of them grinning widely at the camera.

If she remembers correctly, they learned each other’s names a few seconds before she snapped this photo.

She slips out of her clothes without looking at the mirror and presses play before laying down in the tub and fully submerging. When her head is above the surface again, a sweet, familiar melody fills the bathroom, bouncing off the tiled walls and making her heart flutter in her chest painfully.

_Oh, and it's breaking over me_

_A thousand miles out to the sea bed_

_Found the place to rest my head_

_‘’Let me help you. ‘’ said the tall, dark-haired guy on her left side, easily reaching the top shelf above her head and handing her a bottle of cherry wine._

_Arya glared at him in annoyance._

_‘’I would’ve figured it out on my own.’’ She said with a conviction she did not really have and he just chuckled in response._

_‘’Oh, I have no doubts about it. You looked pretty determined.’’_

_Okay, so maybe she had been straining on her tiptoes just a minute prior, but who was this guy to judge her for that?_

‘He has such beautiful eyes. ‘ _she noticed involuntarily, suddenly feeling a little bit dazed as he continued to stare at her with amusement sparkling in said eyes. ‘_ Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.’

_He looked older than her by at least a couple of years, but not old enough for it to be creepy. And he was really tall, the kind of tall that Sansa was always whining about. Mild annoyance that had been brewing in Arya’s gut was suddenly replaced by a delicate flurrying sensation. Strange, but at all unpleasant… and intensifying as she eyed his defined forearms._

_‘’But.’’ The man scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, making his muscles flex deliciously. ‘’You were at a clear disadvantage here. I thought it’s only fair to give you a helping hand.’’_

_He also had nice hands; far bigger than Arya’s, with long fingers._ And no ring _._

_‘’Well, in any case, I guess I owe you a thank you.’’ The words rolled from her tongue before she could stop them. Under the supermarket’s yellow lights at midnight, nothing seemed truly real, especially not this eye-candy in front of her. And maybe that’s why she shifted on her feet slightly, crooking her head to expose the line of her neck as small smirk bloomed on her face. ‘’For your… helping hand.’’_

_The blue of his eyes shifted from the shade of the sun-lit ocean to these of a sky after sunset; such dark blue that almost black. He swept his gaze over her bare collarbones and shoulders, undoubtedly taking in the slight sheen of fresh sweat covering her skin, strands of hair sticking to it. Stormlands were in the middle of heatwave and Arya had changed into a nocturnal animal because of that and yet the temperatures were still driving her crazy._

_Stir-crazy. Restless. Hungry for some new adventure._

_‘’I guess you do.’’ He said slowly. ‘’So, as_ a thank you _– care to tell me what you’re listening to?’’_

_He gestured towards headphones hanging around her neck and she looked down at them, surprised by his request._

_‘’Oh. Sure.’’_

_Quick as a flash, she rose on her tiptoes and placed one hand on his shoulder for better balance. Savoring his stunned expression, she slipped one earbud inside his ear._

_And pressed play on her phone._

_Never let me go, never let me go_

_Never let me go, never let me go_

Arya takes a deep breath and rests her head against the edge of the bathtub. Her eyelids shut close as she quietly starts to sing along, familiar words rolling off her tongue easily.

_Oh, slipping underneath_

_So cold and so sweet_

* * *

**GENDRY**

Sometimes, when he finishes work too late, he can’t fall asleep.

He wanders through their flat instead, like a ghost; picks up toys scattered on the carpet, waters the plants on the kitchen window sill. Sits down on the floor next to Luke’s bed and tucks him in, marveling at his still-chubby cheeks and messy locks, so similar to his own.

Sometimes, Arya is also awake, or at least half-awake; she nurses Nan with her eyes closed, curled in this old canary armchair they found on the flea market a million years ago and ignoring his presence altogether.

But sometimes, if he’s particularly lucky, both of his girls are asleep. He can go and gently nudge Nancy’s exposed palm until she wraps her tiny baby fingers around his own, her eyelashes fluttering and pink lips half-opened. He can change her or sing her a lullaby to soothe her when she starts to fuss.

And he can also lay by Arya’s side, watching her as she wriggles and twists under the covers, always as restless in her sleep as their son is. The faint gleam of her wedding band catching the stray moonlight. Her messy hair. Her flushed skin. Her full breasts and furrowed brow. His stunning, impossible wife, whom he will never, ever deserve.

At nights like this, he looks at his family and counts his blessings. No matter how long he tries, he can never reach the end of them. 

***

Arya’s sitting by the dinner table with a cup of tea when he comes home and he almost drops the groceries in surprise the moment he spots her.

Her hair is still damp; long, dark strands are sticking to her neck. She’s playing with the hem of her dress, not meeting his stare even when he gasps audibly. He’s seen this dress on her before, but it must’ve been more than three years ago at least. 

It’s yellow.

_‘’I like you in yellow.’’ He murmured, pulling her closer to seat her on his lap and wrapping his arms around her. Pregnancy had made her slower, sleepier, softer; she melted against him instantly, giggling at his words._

_‘’You just like me barefoot and pregnant in your clothes, just admit it.’’ She wiggled her toes to illustrate the point and, the same moment, the baby kicked strong enough that he felt it against the palm that rested on the round curve of her belly._

_She was wearing his mustard sweater, the one he had hated with a burning passion before seeing it on her._

_‘’That too. But also, I really fucking like you in yellow. This is how we should paint the nursery.’’_

_Arya nuzzled her face against his shoulder, humming in agreement._

_‘’That’s a good idea. Maybe then people will finally stop asking if we know the sex. I mean, who even cares about it, gods.’’ He knew she was irritated at all that; at constant questions and people touching her belly without permission, of strangers assuming things which are not really their business in any way. It annoyed him too, without measure, to the point when he told a few people to fuck off way less politely than Arya usually would. Including both his and her siblings; they were all way too damn noisy._

_So he kissed the side of her neck softly, making her jolt in surprise at the sensation._

_‘’What was that for?’’ she asked, voice breathy and high-pitched._

_‘’Do I need a reason to kiss my beautiful wife?’’ he shot back, delighted at the way Arya rolled her eyes despite the slight blush on her face. He would never get tired of telling her she was beautiful; she had not been told that nearly enough times in his humble opinion._

_Especially when she was pregnant with his child, soft and warm on his lap, in his arms. Dressed in yellow that somehow-_

-brings out the porcelain shade of her skin and chestnut strands in her hair. Arya in yellow is a summer storm, impossible to look away from.

Or at least, she used to be.

‘’Hi.’’ She lets out, her eyes still stuck to the floor.

Slowly, he sets the bags on the countertop. _Why does she greet me like that? Where is Luke?_

‘’Hi.’’ Somehow, it comes out more like a question.

He looks around and the sight does nothing to calm down his nerves; the kitchen is pristine, spotless. Even Catelyn Stark would probably find nothing to criticize in here. This means two things at the same time – the kids are not here and Arya has been stress-cleaning.

And again. She’s wearing a dress, a yellow one and that implies a heavy topic.

So he crosses the room to sit next to her; wincing, when the legs of the chair squeak against the tiles. _We should really have a carpet here._

‘’Nan and Luke are at Sansa’s,’’ she answers his unspoken question and raises her feet off the floor; she pulls her knees under her chin and Gendry’s stomach somersaults. Arya’s such a big, blazing presence that he often forgets how small in stature she is.

And there is also some other kind of smallness in her; the smallness that he heard in her voice yesterday. Lifelessness that scares him half to death, that makes him feel hopeless and lost.

Arya opens her mouth and snaps it back close. She tugs on the loose strands of her hair in frustration, still not meeting his eyes, and he hates it. Hates it so fucking much. The fact that she doesn’t know how to talk to him and he doesn’t know how to talk to her, when not so long it used to be the easiest thing in the world.

_When did I go wrong?_

He just wanted her to feel safe. He would never force her to stay home with the kids, to _have_ kids in the first place – would never agree if he knew what will become of them. But she wanted it so much and he wanted it too, with such passion that almost blindly. It seemed like a perfect dream in which he would get everything he had ever desired, and-

And now they’re both deep in the woods.

‘’So, are they staying for the night?’’ he asks quietly. Arya nods quickly, her lower lips disappearing in-between her teeth. _I used to pull it out, kiss her until she’s breathless every time she did that._

Gendry does not remember when he stopped. Or why.

‘’Okay.’’ He sighs and stands up, making his wife snap her head up and finally, _finally,_ look him in the eyes. ‘’What do you think about dinner? Rice pasta with chicken and leeks?’’

Her eyes widen for a second, eyebrows shooting up. And then, some shadow of a smile dances in the corners of her lips; small, but bright.

‘’Only if you put chili peppers in it.’’ 

***

They cook in silence, although a bit less strained than the one before. There’s no need for dividing the tasks or asking about the right amount of spices; it’s the dance they’ve been dancing long enough. Gendry chops vegetables. Arya handles the poultry. Both of the toss a pinch of salt in the boiling pasta water and stir it in turns.

A storm gathers outside; wind howls and rain spatters against the windows and, by the time the food is ready, thunder booms once or twice. Still distant enough not to be too threatening… close enough to make a person skittish. They set the table, but Gendry stops Arya half-motion as she reaches for the jug of water from the fridge.

‘’Wait.’’ He crosses the kitchen to the high shelf and whips out two wine glasses.

‘’Are you sure it’s a good idea?’’ she looks at him, one eyebrow raised. Arya hasn’t been drinking since she got pregnant with Nan, and he did not see an appeal of doing that alone, so most of the fancy wine they got from his uncle Renly’s winery throughout last year or two has just been gathering dust somewhere at the back of the pantry.

Gendry’s never been a fan of liquid courage, but if there ever was a time for it, it is now.

‘’Yeah.’’ He shrugs. ‘’Since kids are not here. You won’t be feeding –‘’

‘’Pumping and dumping, what a joy.’’ She snickers quietly, but takes glasses from his hands anyway. ‘’There should be a bottle of this homemade cherry wine somewhere on the third shelf. Let me just clean those, gods know they need it.’’

She wipes the glasses dry and he pours her wine to the brim, as she’s loading their plates. When he takes the first bit, hot shame fills his mouth instead of the taste of the dish and he almost chokes. Because Arya – Arya, sitting across him and silently nibbling on her pasta – Arya went all this way to finally talk with him, and he just took the coward’s way out. Again. _Dinner and wine_ , _gods_ , play pretend of the perfect couple.

And still, he’s dreading the moment when the plates will be empty and the wine will run out. Still, he cannot get free of this fear gripping his heart, no matter how hard he tries.

***

_Gendry did not believe in this whole love at first sight bullshit, he really didn’t, but_ goddamn.

_This girl was something else entirely._

_She dragged him to the beach, even though it was the middle of the night and they had exchanged names maybe ten minutes prior. Started telling him an elaborate and complicated story connected with her brothers (she seemed to have lots of them) and a bunch of dogs, but quickly dropped the subject when she realized that both of them were fans of Riverrun’s Trouts. Before he could even start overthinking his actions, he was deep in discussion about the lineup for the season and why selling Bryden Tully had been the biggest fucking mistake in the coach’s life._

_And soon they were sitting on the blissfully cold sand, trading childhood stories and a pack of cigarettes under the starry sky._

_She was funny. Bright. Beautiful and dazzling, her profile and this hungry, wolfish smile of hers illuminated by the cool light of the full moon._

_First, she offered him her wine, then she called him stupid for not liking cold weather and preferring hotter climate. And then she climbed on his lap and kissed him._

_And maybe there was just a dash of truth in all those romantic comedies he had used to watch with his mom, because he fell so fast and so hard, that it felt just like the movies had promised._

***

When he finishes loading the dishwasher, he finds Arya in the living room. She’s sitting on the carpet and folding some laundry; her hands moving automatically as she’s watching the storm raging outside.

‘’That’s a big one, hm? Maybe we should call Sansa-‘’

‘’I already did. She says that kids are already asleep.’’ Arya sounds a bit dazed. She sets the last towel on top of the detergent-smelling pile and lowers her eyes from the window to her lap. ‘’Told me not to worry.’’

Gendry nods, slowly dropping on the floor next to her. There is a single, abandoned Lego block laying under the couch and he reaches for it, weighting it in his hand. When he was a kid, he would kill for Legos. All he wanted back then was build things, create things; his mom would make this homemade clay for him so he could form misshaped mugs and unsteady figurines, but you cannot really build houses or bridges from clay, right?

_Luke will have everything he ever desires. Nancy too. They will never have to worry about the possibility of being homeless, will never have to survive on dry cereal and instant noodles._

He’ll never allow it to happen to them.

‘’Arya.’’ He takes a deep breath. ‘’Did you want to talk about something?’’

‘’Yeah, you could say so.’’

He takes his hand in his and she lets him. But she does not curl her fingers around his, does not squeeze them; she just lets their palms meet, lets her hand lay limply in his grip.

‘’About kids?’’

‘’About us. But I guess there is really no us without kids anymore, right?’’

They feel like a blow in the gut, her words. _How can she say something like that?_

All those days and nights, summer and winters they spent together before they had Nancy. Before they had Luke. Before they were even married, for fuck’s sake. He cannot believe how easily she forgets about them.

‘’I don’t know what you mean.’’ He spits out. ‘’As far as I remember, you’re still my wife.’’

‘’Am I?’’ she raises her eyes to meet his and the anger within him dies down before it can even begin to really submerge. She looks so endlessly sad, so endlessly hopeless and – _small._ ‘’It doesn’t feel like that. It hasn’t felt like that for a while now.’’

And he’s, once again, terrified.

‘’Is it about our talk yesterday? I’m sorry, I was tired, I told you how busy it is now.’’

It’s the same excuse as always, and he doesn’t know why he uses it, why he continues to use it. It’s a truth, but it somehow tastes like a lie in his mouth and Arya’s face falls when he utters it.

‘’I’m tired too, Gendry. I’m tired all the damn time. I cannot go on like that anymore.’’

All warmth escapes from his body instantly. She can’t possible mean that she wants to – she cannot have that in mind, can she? Because if she can, if she _does-_

Packed suitcases and an empty bed, quarrels about custody, about Christmases and summer holidays and _not being able to come home every day and see his kids, not being able to call Arya his wife anymore._

He can’t even bear to think about it. This word, one of the heaviest words ever invented, hanging between them.

_Divorce._

She must read his thoughts written on his face, or maybe she realizes how her words might be interpreted, cause she quickly shakes her head before he can gather enough courage to ask for clarification.

‘’I don’t want to split, Gendry. Relax.’’ She closes her eyes and rubs them with her free hand, and this is such a non-Arya thing to do that he can only gape. These are Arya words, but uttered without her trademark huff of annoyance, without an eye roll.

There are lines on her face that he swears weren’t there yesterday. Her fingers escape from his grip.

‘’But if we don’t start talking about it now, maybe we will have to.’’

She hides her face in her hands, so the words come out muffled by her palms. But he can hear them perfectly, every single syllable.

‘’What happened with us, Arya?’’ he lets out, ‘’What happened if you’re saying such things?’’

‘’Life. Kids. ‘’ she chuckles. She drops her arms and he stares at her wet cheeks, hating every single cell in his body as she continues to speak. ‘’I don’t know.’’

‘’I love you.’’ Maybe it’s pathetic, for him to say that. He doesn’t care; not, when this whole conversation feels like hanging from the cliff, holding onto the rocks with the very tips of his fingers. ‘’I love you, you know that. You must know that.’’

‘’But you don’t listen!’’ she whips her face towards him. ‘’Gendry, you – we need to listen to each other! Even the things I don’t say, gods, I cannot spell everything out for you!’’

The thunder rumbles outside and lightening follows, basking Arya in the ethereal glow for a second.

‘’What do you want me to do?’’ he asks and it might be just another landmine, cause she just shakes her head with a huff.

‘’I cannot spell everything out for you.’’ She repeats, slower and calmer this time. ‘’I don’t know how to fix this. All I know is that I feel like shit and you’re never there, and this is not how it’s supposed to work like.’’

_‘’I loved your father.’’ His mom said, sitting on the edge of his bed with her work make-up still on. ‘’Maybe he also loved me, in his own way. But love is not enough, Gendry, you better remember that.’’_

And yet he forgot.

He could beg for forgiveness. He could continue to argue. He could do a thousand different things, but the one he actually ends up doing feels like an instinct and does not require any thinking at all – before he can even consider any pros and cons, he has Arya gathered in his arms, his forehead resting on the crown of her head.

She’s stiff as a block of marble, but he doesn’t let go. Traces comforting circles on her back in silence until she loosens up, until she melts against him. _Oh gods,_ he missed her so fucking much. He missed having her like that. He barely feels like a person without her.

‘’You are not shit, Arya.’’ He whispers against her hair. ‘’You are the best thing that happened to me and the best thing that happened to our kids. And I have no idea how I got so lucky, for such a woman to mother my children. I couldn’t – I can’t believe you can possibly feel insecure about being a mom while it seems to come so naturally to you. ’’

She exhales, deeply.

‘’I know I’m never here. But I want to give them all, you know? All that I never had and more. And I want them to never worry about money. I know you don’t think money is important, but Arya, it is. It won’t buy them happiness, but it will buy them safety.’’ He pauses for a second. ‘’It will buy them the kind of childhood you had, not the one I did.’’

Her arms sneak around his waist; loosely at first and tightening with every word he utters.

The rain still beats furiously against the window but all he can really hear is Arya’s small gasps against his chest and his own heartbeat.

‘’And I want to give you all, all there is in the world-’’

‘’So don’t leave me alone.’’ She sobs desperately, interrupting him. ‘’Stay with me, just do it with me, that’s all I’ll ever ask of you.’’

He pulls her onto his lap, letting her straddle his thighs and bury her face in the crook of his neck as she cries her heart out. All the words escape from his head, leaving him speechless.

 _Maybe I just didn’t want to see how miserable she is._ He’s thinking, caressing her hair in silence. House on the hill, the bank account, and the next baby, Nancy and Lucas entering adult life without a single penny of debt – all that he could see, all that seemed so close. Castles on the cloud he imagined while his wife was wasting away.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ That’s the only thing that gets through his clenched throat. ‘’I’m so sorry, love, so sorry.’’

‘’Don’t let me go, oh gods, Gendry.’’ He can feel her mouth moving against his skin, wet and hot and familiar as nothing else in the world.

‘’I’ll make it up to you, I swear.’’ His whisper is so quiet that he’s not sure she can even hear him. Maybe she doesn’t need to, anyway. This is more of a promise that he makes to himself.

‘’Never.’’ He says louder, as loudly as the thunder outside; as surely as he once said his wedding vows. ‘’Never, Arya.’’

And he gently takes a hold of her chin to angle her face towards his and kisses her.

***

_Lucas was born at the swan song of the summer – in the hottest September of the last decade, during the drought so severe that the yellow grass was crunching underneath soles of Gendry’s shoes as he was leading Arya to the car._

_She was calm as still water the whole time they were driving to the hospital. Breathing evenly with her eyes closed, she kept her hands on her belly, caressing it through contractions. Gendry genuinely wanted to ask her how the hell she did not seem to panic at all while he was breaking every single speed limit in the city, but he didn’t really want to bring her out of her reverie. If he was destined to stress and sweat in order to keep his brilliant, glorious wife from doing the same, so be it._

_It was all the same in the birthing room; Arya, silent and focused. Gendry, paralyzed and clumsy, biting on his lip in order to stop himself from blubbering constantly. It didn’t look like she needed his encouragement; she seemed content to hold his hand and squeeze it, even glancing up at him occasionally to send him a reassuring smile, which kinda made him want to cry. Shouldn’t he be the one to support her? Fuck, how did he even convince a woman like that to marry him, how did he get so lucky?_

_The midwife came and went, checking on them every half an hour to make sure everything was going okay, but, for the most part, they spent the whole day alone and in silence. Arya wanted the blinds down to block the unforgiving sun outside and Gendry was as far from touching the TV remote laying on the bedside table as possible. He fixed his eyes on the small wrinkle disappearing and reappearing between Arya’s brows; focused on the sound of her breathing and the flashes of pain on her face becoming more and more pronounced with every passing hour. It was strange, to see her so quiet. But it also felt monumental and grand, and indescribable, and, despite everything, he began to calm down himself, keeping his free hand low on her abdomen to feel their baby moving._

_And then around 7, Arya suddenly shifted on the bed, leaning on her elbows and knees with her head down, and let out a long, heavy exhale._

_‘’I think you should call Ravella.’’ She stated slowly. Her eyelids fell as if she couldn’t keep them up anymore._

_Gendry knocked over his stool in haste to get to the corridor, only to hear the midwife’s good-natured laughter when he urged her to the room, pulling her by her arm._

_‘’Mr. Waters, you should really calm down.’’ The woman was shaking her head. ‘’Your wife is a natural. I’m not sure I’m even needed there. I feel like I’m intruding.’’_

_Gendry soon learned what she had meant._

_Arya was pushing for the eternity of two hours, and although she was clearly in pain, there was not a single moment when she seemed scared or distressed. She nodded to indicate she understood Ravella’s instructions and held onto Gendry for the last thirty minutes, but otherwise seemed so focused and out of this world that he could do nothing else than stare at her, enchanted. She kept her eyes firmly closed until Lucas slipped out of her body into Ravella’s arms and was transferred on her chest, still all red and slimy like a fish._

_Only then her eyelashes fluttered and she looked down at their baby, the exact same moment when Lucas blinked and showed his brilliant blue eyes to the world for the first time. And only then her face broke into a million emotions at once, as if someone throw a stone into a still lake and disturbed its surface. Awe, joy, exhaustion, all mixed together, a whole flood of them._

_‘’Gendry.’’ Arya cried, letting him press desperate, delirious kisses all-over her sweaty hair. ‘’Gendry, look at him. Hello, love, hello.’’_

_She swiped her thumb across their son’s round cheek, trembling a bit. Gendry covered her hand with his._

_‘’Hello, love.’’ He breathed out, echoing her words like a litany._

Five, _she had said in her parent’s living room and had made his heart beat faster than he has ever thought possible. Kneeling on the floor next to the hospital bed and staring at his perfect wife holding their perfect son, he couldn’t help but let the anticipation buzz in his veins._

I want it all, _he thought._ I want it all with you.

***

He kisses her and kisses her, and kisses her; gets drunk on her breathy sighs and warm lips. Now that he has her in his arms, he cannot believe he has managed to go on for so long without it – not that they haven’t been touching at all since Nan was born, but it was all absent-minded and in-rush. Pecks and side-hugs, kisses on the forehead. Small things, really. He didn’t know if she was ready and there never seemed to be a good time to ask.

What they’re doing now is not absent-minded in slightest.

She buries her hands in his hair, scratching his scalp as he bits into her lower lip. She’s everywhere, she’s all he can feel – her hair and skin, the material of her clothes. Her warmth, her smell; her lemon-scented shower gel, breast milk, a hint of perfume he bought her for their last anniversary.

Arya, Arya, Arya.

They make out like teenagers, all frenzied and clumsy on the carpet of their living room. She giggles into his mouth when he slips his hand underneath the hem of her dress, caressing her bare thigh.

 _I missed you, I missed you_ beats inside his chest like a hammer. Arya echoes the sentiment, deliciously responsive to the touch of his fingers. The last time he remembers feeling this way – as if a golden globe of light was stuck somewhere deep in his body, fogging everything in the honey-colored mist – was when Lucas turned two and they left him with Arya’s parent to escape to the Acorn Hall for one glorious weekend, when they did not even leave their bedroom at the motel.

He slides down to lay flat on his back, Arya flying on top of him with a yelp of surprise before he rolls them over. Her hair fans around her face in a dark halo and her lower lip disappears between her teeth as he begins to press kisses down the line of her neck.

_I missed you._

A trail of kisses along her collarbone, a peck in the hollow of her throat.

_Oh, how I missed you._

His hands are hiking her dress up, until it is bunched around her waist and there is not a material underneath his fingers but her skin, warm and soft, and-

‘’Stop.’’

She grabs both of his wrists to stop him half-motion, and he’s so surprised that he almost loses his balance and collapses on top of her. When he whips his face up to look at her, she avoids his eyes – stares up at the ceiling as if there was some universal truth about the universe written on it.

Gendry tears his hands away from where they were resting on her hips and straightens to kneel on the floor between her knees.

‘’Hey.’’ Slowly, he reaches out to lace her fingers with his. This time, she returns the squeeze. ‘’What’s going on?’’

Arya’s chewing on her lip for a moment before she inhales deeply and raises up to a sitting position. The dress falls back down, covering her stomach and underpants underneath the material.

‘’I don’t – I mean, I didn’t have time to hit the gym like after Luke, this time.’’ She says quietly, playing with the loose threads of the carpet with her free hand.

He kinda wants to laugh. He can feel it, this bubble of laughter forming in his gut, but he’s determined to keep it there. Arya would probably not be very understanding if he let it out in this specific moment.

It’s funny, but it’s also very sad, and he also very much hates himself with a burning passion, listening, as his wife fucking explains to him why she looks different after two pregnancies.

Maybe it doesn’t speak well of his character, but he doesn’t let her continue.

Instead, he presses his lips to hers again, harder than before; he grabs her arms to pull her closer and does not let her go, no matter how wildly she squirms in his grip.

‘’Arya.’’ He rests his forehead against hers as she’s gasping for air. ‘’Take this goddamn dress off, because it’s a very nice one and I would rather not tear it off you.’’

Her eyelashes flutter when she looks up at him, wide-eyed.

‘’Gendry-‘’

‘’No.’’ he kisses her again, again and again, until they’re both breathless. ‘’Take – take it off. I can’t – believe you.’’

His hands go back to where they rested previously and slide up to her waist.

When she stiffens, he pulls his head back just a little, but keeps on caressing her sides; up the ladder of her ribs, down the curve of her hips and back again.

‘’You think that I what, won’t want you anymore? Because you had kids? For gods’ sake, Arya. You grew two babies in your body and pushed them out! Do you seriously think I don’t know that would leave a mark on you?’’

She’s blushing a bit and he might be laughing anyway, but who cares. He’s not shutting up cause this whole situation is insane and she _needs_ to know that.

‘’Our babies, Arya.’’ His hands fly from underneath her dress to cup her face, tilting it up so that she has no choice but to look into his eyes. ‘’I adore your body. I adore every single thing about it, now more than ever. I adore _you. Please,_ undress so I could finally act like a good husband should and show you exactly how badly.’’

Her chest rises in deep inhale, then falls. And then the smile blooms on her face – sweet and shy, like the one she gave him the morning after they first had sex. He remembers that girl. Cords of hard muscles from roller derby, fresh skin of a twenty-year-old, all flexible and agile.

He would've chosen he woman sitting in front of him over that hot, wet daydream of a girl in a heartbeat.

Because, when she reaches in-between their bodies and swiftly pulls the dress off, she’s not just some woman in a nursing bra and a sensible pair of black briefs – she’s his wife, his Arya. The mother of his children. The person he chose to spend the rest of his life with.

There is a spider web of thin, silvery marks all over her middle and he ducks to trace them with his lips before she can do anything to stop him.

He can feel her gasp, her fingers tangling in his hair again, but he pays no attention to them. The only thing that really matters is that she lays back down, so he can see her, touch her better. His own fingers caress her inner thighs, parting them for him easily and his mouth is occupied with the task, diligently making sure not to omit a single inch of skin on her stomach.

She giggles a little when his nose brushes the dip of her waist, tickling her.

‘’Not to stop you.’’ She says. ‘’But we have a perfectly good bed in our room.’’

‘’Nope.’’ He mumbles. His hand sneaks in-between her lower back and the carpet to prop her up a bit as he begins to kiss the arch of her hipbone. ‘’Later.’’

Later. Good of Sansa, to take the kids for the night. It would be ungrateful to let her gracious gift get wasted.

Hiking her leg over his shoulder, he replaces his fingers with his lips on the warm, sensitive skin near the edge of her underwear.

She’s still tense, and not the good kind of tense – the self-conscious one, that prevents her from getting any pleasure from what he’s doing. But Gendry knows Arya. He knows her body, head-to-toe; its strength and its wonders, the little secrets it hides. And he does not love many things more than he loves a good challenge.

And so, he smiles to himself, before gently nipping on her thigh instead of kissing it, leaving bright red teeth marks.

‘’Ah.’’ She sighs, she sings. ‘’Just like that.’’

His milady never minded a bit of pain with her pleasure.

He presses his lips everywhere, except where she really wants him to; relentlessly, until she’s wriggling on the carpet with her mouth half-opened. Small pleas escape from her lips but he does not yield until he can feel her fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands forcefully.

‘’Stop teasing me, Gendry.’’

She lowers her hands from his scalp to his shoulder and pushes him away, and, when he raises his face to look at her, his heart stutters in his chest.

For Arya’s eyes are gleaming again, with this glorious gleam that he fell in love with. Blushing softly, but otherwise getting bolder every second, she sits up again to unbutton his shirt, swatting his hands away when he reaches to help her.

‘’I ironed these. I think I can handle them on my own.’’ She huffs and he laughs at the mock-irritation in her voice.

Truth to be told, she does manage to get him out of the shirt quicker than a flash; and then, with no sign of hesitation whatsoever besides a deep inhale, she reaches behind her back and undoes the clasps of her bra, letting the straps slide down her shoulders before the whole garment falls on her lap.

She’s looking at him while doing that, her eyes locked with his and maybe it is some kind of a test, but Gendry does not have enough brainpower to dwell on that; not, if he can sneak his arm around her waist and pull her closer, ardently kissing down her chest to make her gasp.

Arya’s freckled, which not many people know because the freckles on her face show up only during summer. Nan has the same kind of complexion, and Luke does too. But during the rest of the year, all those little golden spots are gone or hidden from the view under her clothes and he adores it to the point of stupidity. It’s like a secret they share; all those constellations written on the pale stretches of skin on her breasts and arms and stomach. His favorite one is just below her left breast – a dark birthmark, almost perfectly round like a full moon, surrounded by a flurry of tiny freckles.

Arya hates it, which may or may not make his pay extra attention to it every time he has a chance.

He’s delicate, because she’s nursing and she would definitely whack him if he made her spill on the carpet. She rewards his efforts with delighted sighs as he caresses her darkened areolas and kisses down her sternum. He still cannot believe she was concerned about her body – this is by far the biggest change in her appearance and he tries and fails to imagine himself not feeling this deep, head-spinning _want_ that burns within him when he cups her breasts in his hands and runs his fingers along silvery lines of stretch marks.

‘’Gods, I love them.’’ He murmurs in her ear and she laughs breathlessly at that.

His thumbs swipe across her hardened nipples, smearing some stray droplets of moisture on her skin. They moan in unison.

_I missed you, I missed this so fucking much._

Down her ribs, her stomach; back on her hips; his hands wander as Arya directs his face towards her and kisses him so sweetly that his toes curl. He still remembers all the steps of this dance and she does too. Perfectly.

This time, when he gently pushes her down on the carpet, she surrenders easily, wiggling out of her underwear herself. She trembles a bit underneath his touch, but this time- this time it’s from anticipation.

He presses one last kiss on her lips and then a peck to the tip of her nose and slowly, slowly slides down her body. Kisses her raised knees. Caresses the lengths of her lean calves.

She’s laying perfectly still, watching him from underneath her heavy eyelids with her mouth half-opened. He thinks he could stare at her forever; but he gets only maybe a minute or two before she nudges him with her foot.

‘’Get down to business, love.’’ She lets out softly, making him grin.

‘’As milady commands.’’ He laughs. His hands grip her thighs and, without further ado, he dives right in-between her legs, molding his mouth against her lips.

Somewhere, in the great distance, he can hear the storm still raging outside; the wind, the rain, the thunder. But the outside world could as well not exist at all for him now – not, when Arya lets out this little, surprised squeak and then moans deeply, her spine arching in pleasure as he runs his tongue up and down her slit.

He remembers how it was, when they were still newlyweds, when she was pregnant when Luke. All those stolen rough fucks that winter, all those fast and dirty rounds of love-making that spring. Insane, insatiable hunger they shared.

It’s not like that now.

It’s not like that, because now they’re older and more fragile. And he’s sorry, so, so sorry – sorry in a way he doesn’t know how to express with words. He has never been a great speaker and that didn’t change with time. Maybe it would be easier for him to speak if Arya did not mean to him as much as she does, if he didn’t adore her the way he does.

He cannot say sorry the way he would like to.

But _fuck_ … he can show her.

So he pours every single ounce of love he feels for his wife – every ounce of frustration and desperation, and helplessness too – into the movement of his lips and his tongue. And he’s gentle with her. No matter how hard she tugs on his hair, urging him to speed up, he stubbornly resists.

She told him he didn’t devote enough time to her? Oh, he’s gonna take all the goddamn time in the world now.

Only when Arya has one arm thrown over her eyes and her fingers gripping his shoulder so tightly that he will surely bruise, he takes mercy on her and moves his mouth up to suck on her clit, flicking his tongue around it until her hips buckle up erratically.

Somewhere in-between her mewls, there’s his name and a long string of curses.

Gendry slips his finger inside her, moving against a delicate tissue with a trained familiarity. He knows what he’s looking for and, even though her body did rearrange itself a bit differently after her last labor, it doesn’t take him long to find it./

If Arya wasn’t panting as hard as she is right now, she would probably growl at him. She has always hated him for his longer fingers, for the fact that he could get her off by fingering because he could reach this small patch of oversensitive flesh inside her and she couldn’t.

( _That’s what you keep me around for, love. – he would laugh and she would just huff in mock-irritation, still too boneless to do much besides that.)_

Arya can say whatever she wants. He knows her and he knows her body. Some things don’t change.

No matter how much she loves it hard, nothing undoes Arya like adoration. 

And so, while his mouth slows down against her clit, massaging it gently, his fingers begin to circle that sweet, sweet spot. Delicately.

And it’s as if somebody turned to electricity on for the first time in a new house.

Her body goes all tense; he can barely keep her hips on the floor. She has both of her hands on the floor now, fingers tangled in the fluffy material.

‘’Gendry, don’t stop, oh gods, don’t stop, please, please-‘’

He adds another finger and her pleas merge together into one desperate litany; and he sticks to the unrelentingly lazy pace, against all his instincts, all his desires. The metal of his wedding band brushes her skin with his movements, making her shiver.

He savors her taste on his tongue, the tremble of her muscles underneath his touch. Delights in how she loses herself in pleasure and how he loses himself in pleasuring her.

‘’Please, fuck, please-‘’

It takes every ounce of self-control to tear his mouth from her, but he does it anyway. Stills his fingers, even though her inner walls tighten impossibly at that.

Stops everything he’s doing just to raise up and kiss her sweaty neck, just to whisper into her ear:

‘’Open your eyes, love.’’

‘’Fuck, Gendry-‘’

‘’Look at me.’’

When she does, he lowers his face until the tips of their noses brush and locks his eyes with hers. At the back of his mind, he wonders if he’s looking as delirious as she is, as wild. If his pupils are blown as widely as hers.

‘’You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Arya.’’ He says solemnly and although usually, she would probably curse him for being so cheesy, this time, she doesn’t.

She just stares at him in wonder, tears rolling down her blushed cheeks. Her hands shake when she raises them up to cup his face.

‘’And you are not alone.'’ He whispers, leaning further down to kiss her.

When his thumb slides across her clit and he finally, finally curls his fingers inside her, digging into this secret spot within her instead of just brushing it, all that escapes from her mouth is a short, soft _oh;_ just a breathy exhale while her body turns into a livewire in his arms.

It’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard.

***

Gendry knows he should move and take a shower, but he just simply refuses too.

The storm has passed and only the soothing sound of the downpour interrupts the perfect silence in the bedroom; that and their slowing-down breathing. It’s warm in their bed. Under the sheets. With Arya.

He doesn’t want to move. Preferably ever.

‘’Are you sufficiently assured of what I think about your body now?’’ he asks and Arya snorts at that.

‘’You are not a good enough actor to fake – that.’’ She moves her thigh a bit, brushing it against his still half-hard cock. ‘’So yes. I believe you.’’

‘’Good.’’ Gendry props himself on his elbows to smile down at her. ‘’I’m happy that we established at least that.’’

His blood chills at his own words. _At least that._ Suddenly, their previous conversation comes back to him with full force, tearing him away from his post-coital bliss. They talked, yes. And had sex.

But how much did it really do to fix this gaping hole in between them?

Arya untangles her arms from in-between their bodies and delicately runs her finger along the bridge of his nose.

‘’You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself.’’ She recites quietly, almost absent-mindedly, and he gasps sharply at the familiar words. ‘’But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give.’’

Late November and the heavy, grey sky above them; her warm hands in his and the way she shivered when he pulled her for a kiss. It’s not hard to recall the next line, not even at all.

‘’You cannot command me, for I am a free person.’’ He cups her face, caressing the apple of her cheek with his thumb. ‘’But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.’’

_I meant it then and I mean it now. I am so sorry that I forgot what I vowed to you, my love._

She angles her head a bit to kiss the inside of his hand before continuing.

‘’I pledge to you that yours will be a name I cry aloud in the night.’’

_Oh, Arya._

‘’And the eyes into which I smile in the morning.’’

He imagines their life, all the years stretching in front of them into infinity. All the bad decisions they can make and all the good ones. And all the moments like this one – all these moments when, presented with the choice, they will choose a hard way. A good way.

Because they love each other.

‘’I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup.’’

Because they love their children.

‘’I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care.’’

And because it all was, is and forever will be _worth it._

‘’I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine.’’ They recite in unison, their fingers lacing together, their foreheads meeting and their hearts finding the same rhythm. ‘’I shall not slander you, nor you me. I shall honor you above all others.’’

He wants to go back in time, to grab that young man in a borrowed suit and shake him.

_Listen to her. Listen to your own words. Let them burn inside you, so you could never forget what you promised._

‘’This is my wedding vow to you. This is the marriage of equals.’’

When he presses his lips against her, she surrenders sweetly and for a moment they just stay still, wrapped in each other; sharing their air and their life, their past and their future and all the storms that are yet to come.

***

Something wakes Gendry up at the break of dawn, when the sky is still light dark blue and pink. He pries his eyelids open.

Arya fell asleep on his chest, according to what he remembers, but at some point she must’ve rolled off him and now is laying on her side of the bed, curled into a ball like a cat. With her left hand outstretched, she’s patting the mattress restlessly, mumbling something incoherent.

He takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together and watches as the tension in her shoulder evaporates and she sighs happily, calming down at once.

Some indescribable feeling tugs the corners of his mouth up before dreams pull him under again.

***

The morning comes too soon.

The morning comes with the smell of fresh air getting through the half-opened window in their bedroom

The morning comes with the squeak of mattress springs when Arya sits up on the bed with a heavy groan and curses under her breath.

‘’Oh, fuck it.’’

‘’What’s wrong?’’ he mumbles, his face still buried in the pillow. It’s Saturday and he was supposed to come to the building site to check a few things but it can definitely wait.

He needs to have a long conversation with his boss about his working hours anyway.

‘’My shirt. ‘’ Arya sighs and that forces him to turn his head and pry his eyelids open.

She’s still all warm and pink next to him, her hair messed up like a rat’s nest on top of her head. With a string of colorful curses, she pulls the offending garment off, so he can see the problem; two wet circles right in the center of her nursing bra’s cups.

‘’I forgot to set an alarm to wake up and pump.’’ His wife sighs, standing up and stepping over him to jump on the floor. ‘’Gods, it hurts like a bitch. Gonna call Sansa to tell her I need my baby back, like, two hours ago.’’

‘’Is it weird to say that I miss her? Both of them?’’ Gendry says, watching as Arya rummages through the drawers in search of a pump.

‘’I won’t tell you that it’s weird, cause I do miss them too. It’s too quiet. A-ha!’’ she waves the machine above her head in triumph and flops back on the bed, resting her lower back against his legs before pulling the cup down. ‘’Although it was – good to not have them here for one night.’’

Arya smiles softly at him and he simply cannot do anything else than sit up and kiss her bare shoulder.

The silence falls between them, but it’s the best kind of silence, familiar like a worn-out blanket. He could let it echo – except the sight of her like that reminds him of the last thing left to say. The one that they forgot to discuss the previous night and the one that might just be one of the hardest things he will ever say.

‘’If you don’t want any more kids, I don’t want them also.’’ He tells her, although those words are a thorny and acidic, burning the inside of his mouth. ‘’Just.. just to be clear.’’

Arya raises her eyes from the pump she’s pressing to her breast.

There are still faint, purple bruises from not getting enough sleep that one good night did not manage to wash off. She surveys him for a heartbeat, her gaze hardened-

And then it slowly softens and she chuckles.

‘’Assure me that you really want to have them first, with everything that comes with them. And then we’ll talk.’’ She says and Gendry almost falls off the bed. ‘’We already made two great ones. The hypothetical next would be probably equally cool, so.’’

‘’It would be a waste to deprive the world of them.’’ He suggests shyly and she grins at that. But after a second or two, her face falls.

‘’I’m serious. Let’s just let it go for now, all right? I need to - work through some things first.’’ She bites on her lip. ‘’I really meant that back when we were engaged. And I also meant what I said two days ago. I’m not sure what I think about it now.’’

He leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

‘’You know where I stand on this. But I will not… I will never force something like that on you. The only children I want are the ones you want to give me. And we don’t need to talk about it now. Whenever we’re both ready.’’

‘’Whenever we’re both ready.’’ She sighs in agreement, leaning against him and, somehow, everything seems lighter all at once.

***

Luke almost trips over his own feet, when he’s running towards them from Sansa’s car.

‘’Mommy!’’ he calls excitedly, ‘’Mommy, mommy, mommy!’’

Arya kneels down just in time to catch him in her arms and he wraps herself around her like a monkey. He instantly starts to narrate his whole day and all the things he was doing and all the movies they saw, and Arya nods patiently, tracing circles on his back with her hand as if to make sure he’s really here.

A clear conflict of interest arises though, when Sansa brings Nan from the car and Gendry can only lull her in his arm fruitlessly as she’s wailing to be fed. And so, all of them end up in the kitchen; Arya nursing the baby while Luke perches on Gendry’s lap close enough that he can still cuddle against her and rest his head on her shoulder. It’s all a little overwhelming, especially when Sansa’s girls start screaming match over who will get to hold Nan’s little hand. Luke continues his narration, unfazed, and Sansa’s trying to tear her fighting daughters away from one another.

But, when Gendry glances at Arya over Lucas’ curls, she beams back at him. And he realizes that maybe the only thing she really needed was this – sitting beside her in the very eye of the storm, while all the kids around them shout and babble and laugh.

Maybe that’s the point of marriage, of family – the one that Starks seem to get almost instinctively while he is still struggling to grasp it. To share a burden too heavy for one person only, no matter how corny it sounds. To distribute the weight fairly and take over the heavy lifting when another needs to sit down and rest for a while.

So when Arya bites on her lower lip while listening to Sansa’s narration of last night, he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second.

He just leans down and presses his mouth to hers. Pulls soft flesh from in-between her teeth with his own, swallowing her gasp and smiling at Sansa’s delighted giggle.

* * *

**ARYA**

‘’If I hear ‘My Featherbed’ one more time, I swear…’’ Gendry murmurs to her.

‘’The Riverlands week will soon be over, don’t worry.’’ She laughs at his irritation, handing him another plate to dry. ‘’Besides, I think it’s nice he likes his new kindergarten group so much. At least now he goes there willingly. This whole kids theater is a great idea.’’

‘’But did they have to assign him this particular legend? Doing The Brotherhood or Wenda The White Fawn would be so much more fun.’’

‘’Don’t you dare to say so around Luke!’’ Arya threatens him with a soapy fork. ‘’It took me a few days to convince him that Forest Love is also cool and fun, I don’t need you to undo all my work.’’

‘’Mommy?

They both turn around to see Luke standing by the door to the kitchen, a cardboard box in his hands.

‘’Can we do those crowns now?’’ he asks excitedly, and Arya drops the fork to the sink.

‘’Give me a second, honey-‘’

‘’I’ll do the crowns with you.’’ Gendry interrupts her, pulling his sleeves up in an exaggerated motion that makes Luke giggle. ‘’I’m better with my hands than mom anyway. Why don’t you prepare everything?’’

‘’Kay!’’ Luke pads to the kitchen table to dump the contents of his box on it. Long blades of wheat, small twigs with acorns and leaves scatter all over with a soft swish, while Gendry turns around to Arya again, grinning.

She shakes her head in mock offense.

‘’I cannot believe you. And here I was, blissfully unaware that you don’t enjoy my handwork.’’

‘’I said nothing of such sort,’’ Gendry says solemnly, wiping the last bowl dry and putting it on its place on a shelf. ‘’I just think your skills are concentrated mostly in another area.’’

‘’That area being…?’’ she knows full well he’s teasing her, but cannot stop herself from asking anyway.

Her infuriating husband neatly folds the drying rag and leans closer to her. His lips brush the shell of her ear when he whispers;

‘’Oral activities, above all other.’’ 

Having said that, he sends her last blinding grin before making his way to the exciting world of kindergarten-level crafts and leaving Arya slightly blushed and more-than-slightly dazed.

***

‘’Why don’t you nurse in bed, hmmm?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’I can sit next to you, if you do that.’’

‘’Well.. okay.’’

It’s a strange kind of intimacy, resting her head on Gendry’s shoulder as he’s drawing on his tablet and Nancy suckles. But Arya’s sure she can get used to it quite easily.

***

‘’Wave mommy and daddy goodbye, won’t you Nancy?’’

Shireen sways on her feet with Nan in her arms and beams at Gendry.

‘’She’s such a cutie. We’re gonna have so much fun together.’’

‘’Just remember that she only likes the blue blanket. She won’t fall asleep without it.’’ Arya fusses, leaning down to press a peck to Nan’s forehead before she exhales heavily. ‘’You’re sure-‘’

‘’Don’t even finish this sentence.’’ Shireen shakes her head. ‘’Yes, I am sure that I want to babysit for one freaking evening and I’m sure that if you call Bella again to ask her if she minds taking care of Luke, she’ll respond with something very unpleasant, so… maybe don’t do that.’’

‘’She won’t,’’ Gendry says solemnly. ‘’She’s leaving her phone at home, actually. ‘’

His cousin looks satisfied with this answer. She looks Arya up and down and the corners of her mouth shoot up.

‘’You look really nice, Arya. It’s been a while since I saw you so dolled up.’’

‘’It’s been a while since I was so dolled up.’’ Arya laughs. ‘’But you must thank Mr. No-Not-A-Tie-Please for that.’’

She winks up at Gendry and he just sneaks an arm around her waist in response, a soft smile painted on his face.

She found the dark blue jumpsuit hanging on the door of the closet this morning, pristine and perfect and _undeniably_ picked out by Sansa or Bella, or both. But it was nice, anyway. Putting it on, doing her hair.

Seeing Gendry’s shining eyes reflected in the bathroom mirror while he was watching her painting her lips red.

It is nice, kissing her baby goodbye and seeing Shireen waving Nan’s little arm to them through the window.

And when after dinner Gendry drives them to the quiet plot of land next to a forest and tells her that it could be theirs if she wants to and he can build them a house there, and they can have dogs and horses and whatever she desires -

It’s easy to let herself dream.

It’s precisely this dream that sweeps her off her feet, right on the sweet-smelling grass, underneath a starry sky.

***

‘’She’s like cold coffee in the morning, I’m drunk of last night’s whiskey and coke-’’

Arya almost drops the backpack she has just dug from the closet when the familiar voice singing a familiar tune reaches her ears.

‘’She makes me shiver without warning-’’

She sets everything down on the carpet and tip-toes through the flat. Through the ajar door to Luke’s room, she glances at her son carefully making a tower out of wooden blocks and smiles involuntarily. Not wanting to interrupt him, she continues to quietly slide on her socks towards the nursery.

‘’Oh, you can stay with me forever-’’

Arya leans on the door frame and covers her mouth with her hand quickly before a sigh can escape from it. A sigh, a cry, a giggle – any of those sounds would disturb the vision in front of her eyes, so she keeps quiet.

They opened the windows wide, letting the warm May breeze rush into the room and billow soft yellow curtains, the same that hanged here when Luke was an infant. The same wind messes Gendry’s hair as he sways on his feet with his back turned to Arya. The dark shade of his curls matches perfectly the one on their daughter’s little head, nested on his broad shoulder.

Transfixed, Arya’s staring at Nan’s little hand fisting Gendry’s blue t-shirt.

Blue, like his eyes and like the sea by which they shared their first kiss. Blue like the sheets on their bed and the walls of their bedroom. Blue, blue, a whole ocean of blue.

‘’Tell me if I’m wrong.’’ He sings. ‘’Tell me if I’m right-’’

_He has such a lovely voice. Pity, that he doesn’t use it more often._

Nancy’s fingers slowly relax, letting go of the material as the sleep pulls her under.

‘’Tell me if you need a loving hand to fall asleep tonight-’’

It’s all so peaceful; Gendry singing to their daughter on a sunny afternoon. So right.

_He used to sing to Luke too. And me. All those sappy love songs from the radio that somehow always sound better coming from him._

Arya closes her eyes. If there was a way for her to bottle up this moment, this feeling, she would've. In a heartbeat, she would've taken it and preserved it, so that it would stay golden and perfect even after decades. 

‘’Tell me how to fall in love the way you want me to.’’

But maybe she doesn’t have to. Maybe she can just stand here for a while and savor every second – the _rightness_ of it. Fresh and sweet on her tongue, warming her up.

_That’s how having your life woven together with the life of someone you love tastes like._

***

‘’Ready?’’ Gendry asks her, his hands still resting on the steering wheel. The parking is absolutely empty, except for a pair of brown hares hopping across the concrete to find refuge in the bushes.

Arya opens the door and inhales, letting the fresh smell of dew fill her lungs. And then she turns around and nods.

‘’Ready.’’

They reached God’s Eye so early in the morning that the kids are still asleep when they get out of the car – Nan tucked warm and cozy against Arya’s chest in a sling and Luke limp in Gendry’s arms. They only awake when the cold breeze caresses their cheeks and the sounds of the forest get through the thick mist of their slumber.

Pine trees surround them, locking their little family in their green embrace. It’s not North, not even close… _but there will be a time for North too,_ Arya thinks. _One day, I will show my children where I came from. The place their mom loves, just like they love Storm’s End._

Somehow, even now Nancy’s remains silent, her blue eyes wide open in surprise and her little head turning back and forth as she takes in the unfamiliar setting. Her hands latch on the material of Arya’s jacket. 

Up from Gendry’s shoulders, Lucas lets out a cheer when he spots a squirrel perched on the high branch, an acorn in her tiny paws.

‘’Daddy, look!’’

‘’I see-‘’

‘’It’s a squirrel! I learned about them in the kindergarten.’’

‘’Oh, did you?’’

Arya’s eyes meet Gendry’s.

They both smile in unison.

And take another step forward, together.

* * *

> _This is everything I have to tell you about love: nothing._
> 
> _This is everything I've learned about marriage: nothing._
> 
> _Only that the world out there is complicated,_
> 
> _and there are beasts in the night, and delight and pain,_
> 
> _and the only thing that makes it okay, sometimes,_
> 
> _is to reach out a hand in the darkness and find another hand to squeeze,_
> 
> _and not to be alone._
> 
> _So this is everything I have to tell you about love and marriage: nothing,_
> 
> _like a book without pages or a forest without trees._
> 
> _Because there are things you cannot know before you experience them._
> 
> _Because no study can prepare you for the joys or the trials._
> 
> _Because nobody else's love, nobody else's marriage, is like yours,_
> 
> _and it's a road you can only learn by walking it,_
> 
> _a dance you cannot be taught,_
> 
> _a song that did not exist before you began, together, to sing._
> 
> _And because in the darkness you will reach out a hand,_
> 
> _not knowing for certain if someone else is even there._
> 
> _And your hands will meet,_
> 
> _and then neither of you will ever need to be alone again._
> 
> _And that's all I know about love._
> 
> \- Neil Gaiman

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Just a quick reminder - fic writers don't receive any kind of monetary compensation for their work. We write because we love doing that and we love those characters. If you enjoy our work, please motivate us by leaving comments. Even a few words can make somebody's day ;)
> 
> I hope that all of you and your loved ones are healthy and safe. Remember to #staythefuckhome!


End file.
